


Yuuri Katsuki & Victor Thickiforov Make a Sex Tape (Allegedly)

by lucycamui



Series: BMSCV-Verse [5]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Humor, M/M, Romance, Sex Tapes, Switching, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 10:55:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13145172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucycamui/pseuds/lucycamui
Summary: A year after his win at the GPF, Yuuri's frustrated with his lack of available time with his ex-pornstar boyfriend. So why not solve the problem by combining it with Victor's valuable expertise and a birthday gift?(A "Be My Sex Coach, Victor!" side-story)"I’ve been a bit frustrated because of it, so I thought we could... for when you can't come with me... I mean, you're used to this kind of thing, so I kinda wanted a... well, that." Yuuri waved toward the bed and the camera.Victor's heart rate doubled. "You want to film us?""Only if you're okay with that?" Yuuri said, scrunching up his shoulders. Victor felt like his heart could seize from the cute. "You've done them before but I thought maybe it'd be nice to have one for just the two of us?"





	Yuuri Katsuki & Victor Thickiforov Make a Sex Tape (Allegedly)

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday, Victor! 
> 
> The original fic this is based off, where Victor is a pornstar and Yuuri is a skater, can be found [here, "Be My Sex Coach, Victor!"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11033310)

"What's this...?" Victor slipped off the shoulder strap of Yuuri's skate bag, which he had brought back from the rink. Yuuri had apologized repeatedly for forgetting it there, throwing his best impression of Makkachin's puppy eyes while asking Victor to fetch it for him.

Their Tokyo hotel room was no longer the scattered mess they had left it in that morning. The bed was freshly made, no doubt by maid service, but everything else was set away as well. Luggage packed and placed off to the side. Victor's laptop and Yuuri's tablet stacked neatly on the side of the work desk in the corner. Surfaces clean of scattered receipts, Yuuri's scrawled half-English, half-Japanese last minute notes for his routine. It was as pristine as it was when they had arrived several days before. 

The only difference was the camcorder set up on the cabinet beneath the large screen television, directly opposite the bed. 

"It's, ummm, your birthday present?" Yuuri ruffled the hair at the back of his head. He had changed out of his costume, but still wore his sponsored workout wear, over which hung his gold nationals medal. "We haven't had a lot of time to spend together recently because of my skating, and it's gonna be like that for a while longer."

Yuuri was not wrong. With the winter season, they had seen a lot less of each other. Yuuri was up before dawn for his skating practice, while Victor poured over his research well past midnight. Yuuri had spent his birthday in New York, assigned to Skate America. Victor had appointments with his advisor and could not make it. 

They had flown out for the Grand Prix Finals on separate planes, Victor arriving in Nagoya just in time to miss opening ceremonies. They had met their first anniversary on the flight back to Detroit, sharing a celebratory kiss over glasses of economy champagne before Yuuri fell asleep on Victor’s shoulder. 

There was supposed to have been a short break before Nationals. A couple weeks. Yuuri took no rest days. According to the fan sites Victor had continued to follow, Yuuri was guaranteed his spot on the Olympic team. He was Japan’s Ace, he had set world records at two consecutive GPFs, he had added another quad to his repertoire, and yet… Victor was there to support him through it all, despite the fact that they had both spent more time in bed with Makkachin over the past two months than with each other. 

The night before their flight back to Japan, Yuuri had collapsed into Victor’s arms, ice packs taped to his ankles. He had muttered a promise that Victor could not make out and dozed off without ducking up for a kiss, a request for Victor to double-check their passports only halfway off his lips. Victor had double-checked them anyway.

Even with Nationals, on the days between Yuuri’s skates, there was no time for pause. If he was not rehearsing for the competition or the ice show that followed, he was in interviews, in photoshoots and commercial filmings for his sponsors. He barely had a second to glance in Victor’s direction, if Victor had even been permitted to come.

"I’ve been a bit frustrated because of it, so I thought we could... for when you can't come with me... I mean, you're used to this kind of thing, so I kinda wanted a... well, that." Yuuri waved toward the bed and the camera. 

Victor's heart rate doubled. "You want to film us?" 

"Only if you're okay with that?" Yuuri said, scrunching up his shoulders. Victor felt like his heart could seize from the cute. "You've done them before but I thought maybe it'd be nice to have one for just the two of us? For the days when I want you but you’re too far away… And the time zones, and all that."

Victor shrugged off his coat and was on Yuuri the next moment, stroking Yuuri's cheek. "You trust me with that?"

"I've trusted you with all the photos I've sent you, haven't I?" Yuuri asked, curling his fingers into the lapel of Victor's jacket. He tipped up on the balls of his feet, ghosting his lips across Victor's. "Wanna make a sex tape?" 

Just like that, Victor was gone. He had been weak for Yuuri since their first date. Both of them. Yuuri could mold him like clay in the warmth of his hands, A year together and Victor would follow Yuuri to the edge of the world. He already had. To Korea for Four Continents, to Finland for Worlds. In the past month, they had been on three different international flights together. And everywhere felt like home when he was with Yuuri.

Yuuri’s kiss took the breath off his lips. Skilled fingers worked off Victor’s tie, pulling it loose, then played nimble down the button line of Victor’s dress shirt. The backs of his legs hit the foot of the bed as Yuuri sucked a mark under his ear, leaving him weak-kneed and pliant. 

Victor’s tie hit the floor, suit jacket falling atop it. His belt zipped from the loops of his pants, already strained in anticipation. Yuuri could flip his switch in a heartbeat, simply with a look through his dipped lashes. Yuuri leading… Victor would be lucky not to embarass himself far too quick. 

Victor’s shirt hit the floor, Yuuri tugging the undershirt out of its tuck. “We’re wearing too much.”

Victor agreed. He was half-naked, on the way to a quarter in no time flat under the expertise of Yuuri’s hands. His beautiful boyfriend, however, was fully dressed, Mizuno label and his sponsorship tags prominent on his warm up clothing. The teeth of the zipper snagged down the front, revealing inch by inch of Yuuri’s flawless skin because he wore nothing beneath. 

Victor kissed at his stomach, at the pale lines stretched along his hips, at his navel. He moved up Yuuri’s chest, kissing between the ribbons of his medal. He made to lift it over Yuuri’s head, stopped by a gentle hold on his wrists. 

“Leave it on,” Yuuri directed. “I want you to feel it against your skin when I bend you over.” 

The promise in Yuuri’s voice had Victor dropping straight to his knees, grasping at the waistline of Yuuri’s pants. He did not wait for Yuuri to step out of them, mouth desperate on the tented fabric of Yuuri’s tight black underwear. He wanted the taste of Yuuri’s skin, the smell of his musk, wanted to be surrounded in Yuuri.

His tongue had barely left an imprint, Yuuri’s fingers tight in his hair, tugging him back. “Ahhh, wait, wait--” Yuuri’s cheeks were flushed high and bright. Victor could glimpse the same color staining his own chest, pulse reacting to Yuuri’s every motion. “I gotta start the… the camera.”

Yuuri kicked off the rest of his clothing, flashing a look at Victor. “Get on the bed.”

Victor listened, stripping himself the rest of the way. He knew how to pose for a camera. Shifting up to the center of the bed, he let his legs fall open, fingers curling to stroke languidly at his building erection. 

Yuuri leaned over the cabinet on top of which the camera was set, checking the display. His ass pushed out, plush cheeks in premium view for Victor. All the pornstars in the world and Victor had never eaten out an ass more perfect than Yuuri’s. 

The red recording light blinked. Yuuri’s blush was deeper as he moved back to the bed, earlier confidence receding. Victor could see it in the scrunch of his shoulders, the slumpsed line of his spine. Victor held out his arms and drew Yuuri into them. 

“I’m-- ummm, not sure what to do now,” Yuuri whispered his confession into Victor’s ear, hands at his sides as if unsure where to settle them. Victor settled them on his chest.

“Start like we always do. With a kiss.”

Yuuri smiled and brushed their lips together, tension rigid in his muscles. Victor reached around and squeezed Yuuri’s ass, making him squeak. Yuuri laughed like a bubbling stream, letting Victor nip at his lips and indulge in the sweetness of his tongue.

Kissing Yuuri was a blessing. Quick pecks in the morning, before Yuuri rushed off to his early sessions at the rink. Leisurely makeouts on Victor’s living room sofa, Makkachin sleeping at their heels, forgotten film playing in the background. A kiss to the cheek over a dinner they cooked together. A kiss between shoulder blades as they showered. A kiss to the inside of strong thighs, tangled in bedsheets. Now a kiss with Yuuri’s pride on it, tasting of his victory, of his determined chance at Olympic gold. 

The fine strands of Victor’s hair were wound around Yuuri’s fingers. Victor’s head fell back, panting through parted lips. Yuuri was above Victor, knees straddling his waist. He swallowed the gasp from Victor, drinking him in deep. Victor could pass his soul onto Yuuri’s tongue as Yuuri licked into his mouth, burning through him. Embers sat low in his stomach, smoldering under Yuuri’s touch.

When Yuuri pulled back, he swept a hand through his hair, pushing back his bangs. The gel from his free skate performance had not yet been washed away, holding form. Victor’s heart stuttered as Yuuri moistened his lips with a flick of his tongue, leaving them shimmering under the dim of the hotel lights. “Spread your legs for me, Vitenka.”

Victor was reduced to ash. Yuuri had been dangerous from their first contact, snaring Victor on the line of his polite shyness impossibly melded with quick wit and a glimmer of mischief behind dark eyes. Yuuri finding confidence in his sexuality had destroyed Victor completely. 

Yuuri nudged a knee between Victor’s thighs, having him lift his hips enough for Yuuri to tuck a hand beneath. A travel bottle of lubricant peeked out from a pillow. Victor did not remember either of them packing one. He could not pause to consider it either, Yuuri’s slicked fingers rubbing over his enterance, other hand a loose fist on Victor’s cock. 

Victor threw an arm back against the mattress to keep himself upright when Yuuri sunk in digits, mewling in pleasure. They first had sex with Yuuri leading a rough two weeks after the previous year’s Grand Prix Final. Right before Yuuri had left for nationals. Yuuri had gazed over the blue frames of his glasses, hesitant and lip-biting. Muttered how much he wanted Victor, so softly it was nearly lost. 

When Victor had asked if Yuuri would be fine to skate, Yuuri had shaken his head. Explained that he wanted to leave knowing that Victor could still feel Yuuri inside him when he watched his new boyfriend perform half a world away. That was the moment Victor realized what he had created. He would not have it any other way.

Yuuri was not hesitant anymore. And the lip he bit was Victor’s, sucking on his tongue as if he wanted it to be something else. First, then second, his fingers plunged inside, teasing as much as stretching. Victor groaned, rocking his hips onto Yuuri’s hand, wanting more. Precum collected on the tip of his cock, which stood hard against his stomach. Victor gasped when the third finger joined, rubbing against his prostate. 

“Ahhh, Yuuri, h-hold on…” To think it used to be Yuuri who could not form words properly whenever they fell into bed together. “You’re… you’re blocking the camera’s view, darling.” 

Yuuri sat between Victor’s legs, his back obscuring the video. Despite his retirement, Victor remained very much a professional. That and he wanted to watch the view of himself flushed and stretched open on Yuuri’s fingers, see how Yuuri prepared to claim him. 

The sharp expression in Yuuri’s eyes cracked and he fell forward, burying his face in the crook of Victor’s neck. Shoulders shaking, Yuuri tremored against him. Victor reacted instantly, wrapping his arms around Yuuri’s waist, ready to hold and comfort him, whisper inquiries of what was wrong. Except Yuuri was laughing. Rolling from down in his chest, Yuuri’s laughter spilled across Victor’s skin.

“I… I forgot that was there,” Yuuri confessed, lifting his face to gaze through thick lashes. Shyness painted the curve of his lips. “I’m sorry, this was a ridiculous idea.”

Victor cupped Yuuri’s face in his hands, thumb stroking his lower lip before he leaned in to kiss it. “If you want to turn it off, we can.”

Yuuri shook his head. “If you think it’s okay, I wanna continue… Though I kinda messed it up now. No cuts in home videos.”

“You didn’t mess it up. I love being able to laugh with you, in bed, with your fingers still inside me.” Victor smiled.

Yuuri yelped and snapped his hand back, blushing a shade twice bolder than before, laughing more. 

“See? Do you know how long I waited to have someone I could laugh with? I love this. This is perfect, Yuuri.” Victor lost himself in the brown of Yuuri’s eyes. “I wanna see myself laugh with you, remember how much I love you in these moments… And also, I wanna watch you skate, see how beautiful you are on the ice, and then be able to see how beautiful you look when you’re deep inside me.”

Victor could see it. The moment that spark rushed into Yuuri. 

He was pulled, rough, to the side of the bed and off the edge. Flipped by Yuuri’s hands, he was bent over the bed with feet planted firmly on the floor but only for a moment. Because in the next, Yuuri’s fingers were inside him again, pulling the breath from his lungs and the gravity off his feet.

Grasping at the sheets, Victor bunched them between his fingers. He muffled a moan into the bedding, half a whimper choking in his throat. The velvet of Yuuri’s cock slid between his ass cheeks, making him clench and plead. 

The cold of Yuuri’s medal hit his back, mouth sucking hot kisses into the base of his neck. Victor did not have time to savor the contrast, because Yuuri gripped firm onto his hips and thrust in. 

Victor’s arms gave out, the weight he had placed on his elbows too much when there was the sheer heat of Yuuri fucking inside him. As always, Yuuri stilled, murmuring a question of reassurance. Victor responded by rocking back and taking Yuuri in full, moaning his name out, reverence layered as thick as the feel of Yuuri’s cock inside him. 

If Yuuri moved like gold on the ice, he was priceless moving inside Victor. Hand splayed over the center of Victor’s back, molding him in an arc as Yuuri took him. Slow and deep, each stroke of his hips in purpose and consideration, like he wanted to take Victor apart from the inside.

The room filled with the slap of skin of skin, with panted breaths, and the constant spill of Yuuri’s name over messed bedsheets. Victor threw his gaze over his shoulder, taking in the sight of his Yuuri. All solid lines, sweat glittering off his Kyushu skin, part in his kiss-swollen lips. He spread Victor’s cheeks with his thumbs, watching himself sink in repeatedly, cock pulling on the pink rim sucking him in. 

“S-stop teasing,” Victor begged, words catching on his tongue as he reached back in search of Yuuri’s hands. “Yuuri, stop teasing and fuck me.”

With a devastating smirk, Yuuri grabbed Victor’s wrists and pulled his arms back taut. Victor’s mouth dropped in a silent cry, spine arching as Yuuri held him off the mattress and pounded in, railing him fast and deep. Spasm after spasm flooded Victor, each of Yuuri’s hard strokes punishing against his prostate. It left him whimpering and moaning, Yuuri’s name a broken mess on his trembling lips. 

Victor could hear the noises Yuuri made above him, short gasps and moans, soft praise for the way Victor felt around him. Yuuri’s medal settled in the center of Victor’s back as he bent over, mouth open on the dip between Victor’s shoulder blades. 

Hot exhales were ragged with his pace as Yuuri thrust into Victor, faltering as he gasped and spread his fingers over the sharpness of Victor’s hips. 

“Ahh, Vitya, nghhh.” Yuuri’s mouth found the shell of Victor’s ear, his moans hushed against it. 

Victor was barely hanging on, the force of Yuuri’s drive and weight maddening above him. “Yuuri.... Yuuri, l-lemme see you, lemme kiss you.”

Yuuri turned Victor over like it was nothing, like a pair’s ice dance routine, and plunged back inside. Victor moaned, arms thrown around Yuuri’s neck, the small of his back precarious on the edge of the bed like Yuuri drove him to the edge of coming. He was close, so close without so much as a touch to his cock, and then Yuuri’s mouth was on his, claiming him with a whisper and a flood of warmth inside. 

Victor groaned, ready to plead for Yuuri’s hands when they planted firm on his chest and pushed him back onto the bed. Without missing a single rapid heartbeat, Yuuri swung a leg across Victor’s waist and settled in his lap. 

The surprise died halfway up Victor’s throat as Yuuri, slick and open, sunk down onto his straining cock. Victor gripped Yuuri’s hips and fucked up into him, swearing in a mix of languages that he could no longer distinguish. Tight heat sent Victor plummeting too quick to time, Yuuri riding him through the orgasm until Victor’s head tipped onto his collar. 

“Fuck…” 

Laughing, Yuuri kissed the silver hair before him, then more when Victor’s arms gathered him up and tightened around him. 

“You’re so incredible…”

“Hmmm, I know,” Yuuri muttered into the kiss that Victor tempted him. “And look… Happy Birthday. Or, ummm, _c dnem rozhdeniya_?”

The digital clock on the nightstand read a minute passed midnight. 

Victor drew Yuuri down, rolling them in the sheets, brimming with the delightful sound of Yuuri’s laughter when Victor kissed him breathless. 

“Mmm, anything else you’d like on your birthday, Mr. Thickiforov?” Yuuri teased.

Victor let it slide, because he knew the force of the blush that would be on Yuuri’s cheeks when he played the comment back later. “You. Just you. You’re the greatest gift I could have asked for.” 

Yuuri smiled like the sparkle of gold, all warmth and joy and everything that Victor could ever love. 

All that he ever wanted to.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on tumblr [@lucycamui](https://lucycamui.tumblr.com)


End file.
